


The Midday in the Herb Garden

by siobhrag



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Awkward Conversations, Awkward Flirting, Getting Together, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, M/M, Professor Harry Potter, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:54:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25427242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/siobhrag/pseuds/siobhrag
Summary: A hunch, some sweat, some awkwardness, some feelings, and two eventually happy people.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Severus Snape
Comments: 6
Kudos: 104





	The Midday in the Herb Garden

**Author's Note:**

> Not betaed.

Even standing on the other side of the herb garden Harry could see that Snape was suffering from the heat. The man’s long hair was sticking to his neck and face; beads of sweat were slowly rolling down Snape’s temples; his trousers and jacket clung to his long body, stifling its movements.

Why on earth was Snape picking those herbs now, in the middle of the day when the heat was most unbearable? As far as Harry remembered, the best time to harvest anything in the wizarding world was the moonlit midnight. 

Harry could bet anything that were he to stand right near Snape he would see damp patches under his arms, even on the black fabric, and he would feel the scent of Snape’s sweat.

Harry wasn’t entirely sure when it started exactly, but somewhere in the last six month, when he began teaching DADA at Hogwarts, he became quite interested, fascinated even, in Snape. And he had a justified suspicion that he himself was of some interest to Snape, too. 

All Harry needed to do was to prove this suspicion, preferably now, as it was getting harder to feign polite indifference every time the school life of two professors threw them together.

Slowly but purposefully Harry walked to the patch where Snape was bending and squatting (and sweating) at precise intervals, picking herb after herb after herb and putting them into the basket hovering at his side.

Harry had no doubts that Snape sensed him approach. Only months of watching Snape surreptitiously allowed Harry to notice the subtle change in the man’s composure, the slight tension to his back. 

After several minutes of ignoring Harry, Snape finally acknowledged Harry’s presence with a calm question. “What do you want, Potter?” Snape never used Harry’s newly acquired title. Harry didn’t really mind. 

Snape was squatting by some plant, with his back to Harry. Now that Harry was near Snape, he could indeed see the damp armpits and feel the man’s sweat in the air. And suddenly Harry didn’t know anymore what he should do. He shuffled his feet and nervously raked his hand through his hair. What if he was mistaken?

Snape straightened and turned to face Harry in one swift, graceful motion. Harry though absent-mindedly, staring at Snape’s damp neck that he would never pull off something like that. He would stumble and trip on his own feet and fall right onto the dry dusty ground at Snape’s feet.

“Potter, did you want something? Has something happened?” Snape dusted hid hands and looked at Harry thoughtfully. 

Harry just kept staring at the man, at his hair curling at the ends from heat and sweat, at his tightly buttoned coat and shirt collar. “You look hot, professor.” Harry still addressed Snape that way, even though as his colleague he could call the man by his name.

“What did you say, Potter?” Snape’s eyebrows were raised in shocked disbelief, but his eyes were glinting with amusement. 

Harry played his own words back in his mind and blushed. It did sound ambivalent. “I mean, you seem to be hot from the heat, and the sun, and the work…” 

Harry knew he was babbling. He shut his mouth and raked at his hair again. A cautious glance at Snape’s face, though, revealed something unexpected; and glorious. 

Snape was smiling. Well, the way Snape would smile, anyway – with only just a corner of his mouth quirking up a bit. But his eyes were laughing. Harry gave a nervous laugh himself.

“Do I, now?” Snape procured a blindingly-white handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed at his moist forehead and temples. “And were you planning to do something about that, or did you come all the way here to state the obvious?” Snape’s eyes still had that laugh in them.

Was Snape mocking Harry or was he flirting with him?

Deciding that at that point being hexed was better than being ignorant, Harry acted on what he sincerely hoped he had understood correctly.

“I thought this might make you feel better.” With a wave of his hand Harry conjured a glass full of clear, cool water, its surface covered with beads of moisture.

Harry offered the glass to Snape, and the man took it without hesitation, his fingers touching Harry’s briefly in the process. Harry shivered. As far as he could remember that might as well be his first physical contact with Snape in five years, since he saved the man in the Shack, stopping his blood with his hands.

Mesmerised, Harry watched Snape drink the water unhurriedly, his throat working rhythmically and steadily as the man swallowed. Harry swallowed, too. His throat suddenly became dry, and he knew that it wasn’t caused by the heat.

Snape finished the water and made the glass disappear. “Thank you, Potter. That was thoughtful of you.” Snape’s eyes were now glued to Harry’s face.

“Ehm, yeah. No problem.” Harry felt his face heat up again. Now he was in need of water, preferably an ice cold shower.

Snape dabbed at his temples again. And then he did something that somehow dispelled any doubts Harry might have had. 

Looking straight into Harry’s eyes, Snape undid the first button of his shirt; then the second; and then the third. Now Harry could see the delicate hollow between Snape’s clavicles. Harry licked his lips and looked up at Snape’s face. Even though it seemed as emotionless and impassive as usual, Snape’s eyes were almost burning as they looked at Harry, and his mouth was quirked just so, making Harry want to kiss it right there and then.

Snape put his already damp handkerchief to his neck and slowly slid it down, dipping under the open neck of his shirt. Harry followed the innocuous piece of cloth with his hungry eyes, wishing it was his fingers.

Seeing that Snape had no intention of biting his head off, and needing a distraction, even one in a form of a sneering jibe, Harry risked asking the question that bothered him quite a lot. “Sir, why are you picking those herbs in this searing heat?” Harry held his breath and almost squinted in preparation for an angry outburst. But none followed.

With the last swipe to his neck Snape banished the handkerchief and closed a button; one. “Contrary to the common belief, not everything must be harvested at midnight.” Snape bent swiftly and plucked another plant. “This kind of herbs is least dangerous when exposed to the sun. Otherwise they might leave the unfortunate gardener with some nasty burns.”

He put the herb into the basket and glanced at Harry. “Also, having dealt with the herbs now, I will have my evening free to do something more enjoyable.” Snape threw another glance at Harry’s face, accompanied by a small smirk.

Knowing he was being led to ask a certain question, Harry complied happily. “And what would that be? Sir.”

Snape’s responding smile was almost predatory. Harry gulped but kept his eyes on Snape’s. 

“Don’t you think, Mr. Potter, that such a hot day should be finished with a nice, long swim in a cool lake?” Sweeping his eyes up and down Harry’s lithe form, Snape plucked the last herb from the ground, deposited it into his basket, turned his back on Harry and began walking.

Several steps later Snape half turned to face Harry again. “Would you care to join me this evening, Mr. Potter?”

Harry felt his face shape itself into a happy, undeniably goofy, grin. That seemed to be enough of an answer for Snape, as the man quirked his mouth into a small smile, nodded slightly and walked out of the herb garden. 

And somehow Harry knew that his hunch was correct, and that he wouldn’t need to feign indifference next time he saw Snape walking the Hogwarts halls. 

And Harry also knew where exactly he would be that evening; and how that evening would, or better say, the night. And Harry also knew he wouldn’t need his swimming trunks; wouldn’t need them at all.


End file.
